


Glorly and Gore

by youthofpandas



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Post Timeskip, Pre Release, angst ish? maybe?, get on the complex character hype train, takes place right after the reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youthofpandas/pseuds/youthofpandas
Summary: Edelgard thinks about her place in the world and how fate seems to have it out for her and her (former) friends.Based on the Lorde song of the same name but not really





	Glorly and Gore

Summer winds tore through the quiet camp. Nobody dared talk, not even the whispers that usually littered the camp. Not today. Not after the reunion…

When she proposed the idea she never thought it would have ended up like this—never wanted to fight to the death with them, but in the past years things had changed. Chaos raged quietly, something she had not known was possible until it hit her in the face with its uncontrollable power. The warmth of a fire that would soon consume all: growing and destroying both those who remained ignorant and those who struggled to stop it. Now the reunion meant getting a look at her enemies—a term that still made her heart clench—and evaluate where to go from here.

The weeks leading up to it were filled with brutal training. She knew they would bring their armies and could not hesitate to rip to pieces those who attacked her. All day she swung her axe at practice dummies and all night she would drink just a little more than the previous night to keep herself sane.

The soldiers knew that right now they meant nothing more to her than the wooden people she could split in one blow. Even her most loyal would not approach the campfire she sat near in her current state. The pitiful looks they gave ended when she met them with a cold, unyielding glare.

The fire crackled with life as she tossed another log to the flames. Sometimes something just needed to die in order to let others live, that was the way of the world. It would be preferable if it wasn’t… them… but there was no other choice. In order for her country to not just survive but flourish, they would have to be taken care of.

She wasn’t a bad person, simply a good leader. Leaders conquered and provided. They won wars and kept allies in check. This was bigger than her, as much as she hated to admit that truth. The people cried out in the streets for change and the other two countries weren’t making it a very difficult choice to give her citizens what they wanted—needed.

In a moment of allowed weakness she let herself sigh deeply and look away from the fire. Her eyes found the dried blood on her dress that would never truly come off, the blood under her nails, the blood on her axe she did not yet have the mental ability to wash off. That was right, wasn’t it? Either all consuming destruction or the death of the enemy. She was more than a good leader, she was a warrior who would kill as many as it took, a savior that her country needed.

They could try all they wanted, but little did they know that there was no option but her victory. Some might assume her delicate, as a leader or warrior or perhaps even both, but she knew what she was. Even the other leaders knew delicate was a word that could barely be uttered in the same sentence as the name of the mighty empresses.

One day she knew she would love the slicing of flesh as much as she loved the chop of wood. The blood on her would be a bonus, an accessory to compliment her, instead of curse that made her feel unbearably unfit to rule. And if she didn’t end up feeling that way? A foolish question to ask, as it had no answer. It was an impossibility.

This war chose her to be one of its main players and she was going to play her part beautifully. People would tell tales of her victory for generations upon generations. She knew they would skip over moments like this, after all what kind of hero has moments of doubt, and felt grateful for it.

The people around her now, though, they would know. As brave and ruthless of a face as she put on in battle, she must look lifeless now. She allowed herself one more sigh before she stood, the dried blood pulling on her skin. There were things to do, appearances that needed to be kept up. The more she thought about things the longer it would take for her to become what she needed to be—what this story of war and betrayal needed her to be.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time publishing a fic in years wow! Also my first time publishing anything on ao3 so if the formatting sucks I'm so sorry;; again big thanks to the three houses server I'm in for reading it and pointing out obvious spelling errors and just giving me the courage to post this !


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